A Day to Run Again

The morning began with a quick cold instant coffee, more symbolic than satisfying—because I knew something better was coming. Sha, my thoughtful host at the Bigfoot Hideout, had promised one last brilliant espresso before I hit the road. I packed up without a fixed plan—no decision made on whether I’d walk, run, or do both. I simply wanted to let my body guide me, especially my healing leg. No pressure, no expectations—just presence.

At 6:45 a.m., I joined Roger and Sebastian—the two mountain bikers also staying at the Hideout—for a farewell coffee in Sha’s cozy café. As I stepped inside, the rich aroma of espresso filled the air, and through the shop window the sky was awash in soft pastels just before sunrise. We took our cups upstairs and watched the morning unfold from the second floor, coffee in hand, eyes on the glowing horizon. What a sendoff.

Sha, ever generous, handed me a sandwich he’d prepared for the road. It was one of those small acts of kindness that lights up your heart. I left feeling grateful, warmed by espresso, sunrise, and good company—still unsure what the day would bring.

I started out gently, staying hyper-aware of how my leg felt, cautious but hopeful. To my surprise—and joy—it felt good. I kept going. The route down Highway 71 continued through the Ozark National Forest, with blooming trees and wide views on both sides. I found myself falling into rhythm. One step, one breath, one moment.

And just like that—I was running again.

I ran the first 13 miles, then another 12. I stopped briefly to sit on a bench, snack on a banana and an apple, and take it all in. Then I kept going, nearly the last 10 miles, this time on a beautiful bike path weaving through Fayetteville, Johnson, and finally into Springdale.

Along the way, I stopped in Johnson for a little grocery shopping… and treated myself to something special: a new pair of running shoes. It felt like a fresh start, a celebration of what my body allowed me to do today, and a hopeful step forward into more good running days.

At the hotel, I met Cole, who had seen me running and was curious about the journey. I love moments like these—when someone takes an interest and we connect. Later, I asked Nicolle at the front desk if she had a cardboard plate for my salad dinner, and she kindly offered one from her own stash. Another simple, generous act that made my evening just that much sweeter.

It’s been an incredible day—one filled with movement, joy, kindness, and hope. My body felt strong, my heart full, and my spirit deeply grateful.

Thanks for being part of this journey. See you tomorrow.